Title

Ballad of the Outer Life

1

And children slowly grow with their deep eyes

That know of nothing, slowly grow and die,

And everyone of us goes his own way.

The harsh fruits gather sweetness gradually,

5

And like dead birds come hurtling down at night,

And in a few days fester where they lie.

And always the wind blows, and we recite

And take in many words, sound after sound,

And in our limbs feel langor or delight.

10

And roads run through the grass and strewn around

Are cities full of torches, ponds, and trees,

And threatening cities, withered ones, are found.

To what end were they built? with differences

No less innumerable than their names?

15

Why laughter, tears, when death must follow these?

What does it profit us, and all these games,

Who, great and lonely, ever shall be so,

And though we wander do not look for aims?

From having seen such things what profit comes?

20

Yet he says much who whispers "evening,"

A word from which grave thought and sadness flow

Like rich dark honey from the hollow combs.

Trans. Hamburger